Short post on a hot afternoon...

It’s late afternoon, and I’m writing my blog post in the comfort of my air-conditioned living room.  I was up extra early this morning, got out for a walk, got all my cooking and gardening done before it got too humid, and now I’m trying to get into a blogging mood, which is actually much more difficult than I thought it would be.  So please bear with me if my post sounds disjointed and less-than-inspired.

It’s a shame that I’m lacking my usual blogging enthusiasm, because the book I read last week was truly amazing.  Home Fires by Kamila Shamsie, winner of the 2018 Baileys Women’s Prize for Fiction, explores how the lure of terrorism is affecting Britain’s Muslim youth.  At the age of 28, Isma is finally free to pursue her dreams, after years of raising her twin brother and sister following the death of their grandmother and mother seven years before.  Isma is significantly older than the twins, and with a jihadist father whose life with the children was brief and sketchy at best and who died in uncertain circumstances on his way to Guantanamo many years earlier, Isma has shouldered the role of parent, supported by her extended family, Aunty Naseem and the cousins.  But now she is off to Amherst Massachusetts to resume her PhD studies, where she meets Eamonn, son of the UK Home Secretary, Karamat Lone. She is clearly smitten with him, but he, unfortunately, only has eyes for her younger sister, Aneeka, with whom he takes up a relationship upon his return to London. Aneeka sees Eamonn as a conduit to reaching the Home Secretary in an effort to bring her brother back home.  Parvaiz has been lured by the recruitment arm of ISIS after learning more about his father’s life and mission before his death, and works for the media arm of the terrorist group in Syria, but he becomes disillusioned and wishes to return home to his family and his “real” life. As a member of ISIS, however, this is nearly impossible, and Aneeka does everything in her power to help, including manipulating Eamonn into approaching his father.  What follows is the heartwrenching story of the effects of distorted religious faith in the hands of one family, and the far-reaching consequences and difficult decisions so many people are faced with because of the actions of one misguided youth. I read that this was a contemporary retelling of Sophocles’ play Antigone, about a teenage girl who must choose between obeying the law of the land, as represented by her family, and religious law.  I know nothing about this play, but when reading this short novel, it had the feeling of a play retold, although I didn’t know this for a fact until much later.  I sometimes find novels told from various points of view to be either confusing or repetitive, but this one, told from the points of view of Isma, Aneeka, Eamonn, Parvais and Karamat, was none of these things.  Rather, it flowed as though it was one story told by a succession of storytellers, each patiently waiting for their turn to share the next section of the tale. It was short, barely 275 pages, but Shamsie never made the narrative seem skimped or incomplete, but rather it was told sparingly yet fully, with sufficient detail that I as the reader felt fully engaged.  She may have been able to achieve this because the story is so very timely, and even the most politically illiterate of us (like me!) understands what is going on. This novel had depth and emotional pull, and had me racing to the last page, which offered a satisfying, albeit tragic, conclusion. I would highly recommend this novel and will seek out others by this author (I think this is her seventh book).

That's all for today. Stay cool and keep reading!

Bye for now…
Julie

A bit of everything on a perfect laundry day...

I’m enjoying a steaming cup of chai tea and the first local strawberries of the season, along with a slice of freshly baked Date Bread on this perfect spring morning.  It is so breezy that the sheets I hung outside about a half-hour ago are nearly dry, and I’ve got another load of sheets from last weekend’s company nearly ready to go.  There’s nothing better than the smell of freshly laundered sheets that have been hung outside to dry, one of the best things about this season.

I didn’t read anything last week, just finished up two books I hadn’t quite completed the week before.  Then I was at odds as to what to read next. I was planning to go and see the film adaptation of Ian McEwan’s On Chesil Beach yesterday, which made me want to reread this short novel again.  But I was too tired out to make it to the movie, and I didn’t read the book, either.  But I did pick up something I had on hold at the library, this year’s Baileys Women’s Prize for Fiction winner, Home Fire by Kamila Shamsie.  I have enjoyed reading some of the winners of this prize in the past, including We Need to Talk About Kevin by Lionel Shriver, Bel Canto by Ann Patchett and Property by Valerie Martin, and this one was immediately engaging when I started reading it yesterday afternoon.  I hope to write about it more next week once I’ve finished, but it seems to be about a young woman, Isma, who has spent years raising her twin siblings and is now finally free to pursue her own dream.  She has moved from London, England to Amherst, Massachusetts to take up her PhD studies, but worries about her younger sister, Aneeka, back home and her younger brother, Parvaiz, who has disappeared to follow his own pursuit.  Then Eamonn, the son of a Muslim politician in London, turns up in Isma’s life and seems to offer her a sense of home comfort while she is away. I’m not sure what will happen next, as I’m only 35 pages into this 275 page novel, but so far it seems like a good choice.  I don’t always enjoy literary award winners (remember the recent French literary prize winner, The Perfect Nanny?!), but I can usually count on the Baileys Prize.  

That’s all for today.  Get outside and enjoy the glorious spring day! But don't try reading outside - it's too windy!

Bye for now…
Julie

Short post in a hurry...

My brother-in-law and his family have just left our place after spending the night, and friends will be arriving from Toronto soon to go the the Maker Expo, so I really only have a few minutes to write up a post for this week.  

My book club met yesterday morning to discuss The Nightingale by Kristin Hannah, a book that I had read a couple of years ago.  Here is what I said about it at that time:

“I was up early this morning and had time to finish The Nightingale by Kristin Hannah.  I don’t normally read historical fiction, and this book was recently voted Best Historical Fiction title on GoodReads (which I almost never check, but I still get their email updates).  Nor am I a huge fan of domestic fiction of the sort Hannah writes. But somehow during a conversation about books with a teacher at one of my schools, this title came up, and next thing I knew, she brought it in for me to read.  I brought this 400+ page novel home and fully expected not to enjoy it, but it totally sucked me in and I had a hard time putting it down. This novel tells the story of two sisters in France during WWII. They are estranged both from their father and from each other, partly due to their age difference (Vianne is 10 years older than Isabelle) and partly due to their personalities.  Vianne is the mild, responsible one who always follows rules and lives a quiet life in a small French village with her husband and daughter, Sophie. Isabelle, on the other hand, gets thrown out of one boarding school after another for a variety of reasons, mostly for not following the rules. She craves the love and acceptance of her father, but he continually shuts her out or sends her away, as he has done with both children since their mother died.  When Germany invades France and occupies parts of the country, Vianne follows all the rules while Isabelle tries to find ways to break them and resist the Nazis. As the seasons pass, the order in Vianne’s world begins to crumble as the Nazi occupiers change the rules daily, threatening to destroy the livelihoods of everyone, Jews and non-Jews alike. Family members are imprisoned, friends are taken away or killed, and no one really knows what is going on.  But still Vianne does her best to follow the rules, hoping that things will get better. Meanwhile, Isabelle joins the resistance movement and is integral in setting up the Nightingale project, a program to help downed airmen in France return to safety. When the situation in the village becomes unbearable, Vianne is forced to break the rules and do what is right for those she loves, and she must learn to live with the consequences. This book has a bit of everything in it:  It is a domestic story of two sisters who must learn to overcome their differences and love one another despite their past experiences. These sisters must also learn to accept their father for who and what he is. It is a love story, well, actually two love stories. It is also a story of war, offering detailed descriptions of the brutal conditions and cruel treatment people were forced to endure at the hands of the Nazis, but told from the point of view of two very different women who made a difference in their own very different ways, and the difficult choices they had to make on an almost daily basis.  It was also a bit of a mystery, as it is told in the form of an extended flashback, and the reader does not discover until the very end who the main character really is. This well-written, gripping novel is sure to appeal to readers on so many different levels, and Hannah does a great job of portraying the lives of these French sisters despite being an American writer. It reminded me of the excellent novel we recently read for my book group, Suite Francaise by Irene Nemirovsky, although they are very different novels.  While I would never normally have read this title, I’m glad my colleague left it on my desk.  I would recommend this book to anyone who enjoys historical fiction or domestic fiction.”

I still feel the same way about this book upon a second reading, and my book club ladies loved it!  We talked about the psychological challenges of the women in this book at that time, and how they had to make on-the-spot decisions on a regular basis that could significantly affect what happened to them and their families.  We appreciated the many sections where food was discussed, the feeding of the families with so little, the hoarding of food by the Germans, and how Hitler used France as a breadbasket to feed the German army. We compared Beck and Von Richer, and discussed what dilemmas Beck, too, faced on a regular basis, when he really believed in what he was doing at the beginning of the war, and how ashamed he was as the war progressed and turned cold-blooded and cruel.  One member mentioned that she wasn’t aware of the use of an escape route over the mountains, another felt that Isabelle’s beauty was an asset as well as a detriment. We talked about the climate at the time, that no one trusted anyone, and individuals had to guess who and what to believe, and how this changed from day to day. One member just said it was a heartbreaking book, all the death and despair, and how, as she was reading it, she kept thinking that she “didn’t want to know”, but at the same time that it was “good to know”.  Her favourite quotation from the book is when Vianne says, “ ‘Men tell stories. Women just get on with it’ “, which led to a discussion about whether it is better to remember or to forget. We had a great discussion, and I would highly recommend this book to any book club.

That’s all for today!  Stay dry and keep reading!

Bye for now…
Julie

Short post on a hot weekend...

The summer weather has definitely arrived and I’m not thrilled about it.  I know, I know, I’m in the minority, but this weather drains me and zaps my energy.  However, it will be this way for the next few months, so I will do my best to enjoy it.  Too bad it makes my hot cup of chai less appealing!

After a couple of disappointing books, I wanted something I would really enjoy reading this past week, so I went to my stash of early Minette Walters psychological mysteries and chose one whose story I didn’t really recall, The Echo.  Once I started reading it, though, it came back to me in bits and pieces, and unfortunately it’s not one of my favourites.  It begins with a homeless man being found dead in a wealthy woman’s garage. Billy Blake died of starvation beside Amanda Powell’s food-filled freezer, and she takes an unusual interest in this man’s life story, paying for his cremation and enlisting a local journalist, Michael Deacon, to uncover Billy’s true identity and details about his life.  She claims she feels somehow “responsible” for his death, and for the plight of the homeless in general. Deacon doesn’t believe her, suspecting instead that she asked him to help because she thinks Billy could be her estranged husband, James, who disappeared five years earlier after being accused of defrauding his employers, a London banking institution, of £10 million, and whom she has been accused of murdering.  As Deacons investigations lead him into the world of the homeless and to enlist the help of others at his newspaper, he forms deep and lasting connections where he least expects them and tries to come to terms with relationships within his own family. This book is well-written, in customary Walters’ style; it is complex and engaging, and the characters are interesting, both as individuals and as part of the network of characters that make up the story.  But what I really enjoy about Walters’ books is the psychological exploration of a main character who has committed a horrible crime. Like an onion, Walters peels away layer after layer of the character’s life experiences until we, the reader, come to understand his or her motives, and while at the beginning of the novel we are set to condemn him or her, we are by the end of the novel, while not applauding, hoping for leniency from the courts. This book lacks this characteristic, in that it is told from the point of view of the journalist, and no heinous crime has actually been committed.  It also feels quite dated - it was written in the late ‘90s, but there is virtually no mention of technology, despite the main character being a journalist, who you would expect would want to stay connected and to be using the latest communication devices. Anyway, I won’t have a chance to finish it today, as I have to start my book club book for next Saturday, The Nightingale by Kristin Hannah, which is 400+ pages, and I won’t have a chance to read on Monday night because my Friends’ book group is getting together to discuss The Perfect Nanny (it’s amazing how much difference a single missed night of reading can make!).

That’s all for today.  Stay cool and keep reading!

Bye for now…
Julie

Another disappointing book on a long weekend...

I’m happy to have an extra day off this weekend.  Perhaps I will use the extra time to carefully choose a book that will be engaging and satisfying, rather than disappointing.  Thank goodness my cup of chai and delicious Date Bar are never a disappointment!

Yesterday I finished reading the selection for my next Friends Book Club meeting, which will be taking place in a week.  We will be discussing The Perfect Nanny by Leila Slimani, a novel that got many rave reviews and won France’s most prestigious literary prize in 2016.  This novel tells the story of Myriam and Paul Massé, parents to two young children, Mila and Adam. When Myriam decides to go back to work, they search high and low for a nanny to care for their children, and finally come across Louise, a slight, blond, middle-aged woman with a glowing reference from a friend.  She appears to be a miracle-worker, able to organize the chaotic apartment, pull off fabulous children’s parties, whip up delicious dinners, stay late, arrive early, and yet remain in the shadows; in short, she seems to be the perfect nanny. But when she becomes obsessed with the children and the family, and her fear of being made redundant takes over, her hold on reality begins to slip, and her unstable past catches up with her until she snaps and murders both children.  (I didn’t just give anything away - this is revealed in the very first paragraph.) The novel explores the growing interdependence between Louise and the Massé family, and Louise’s eventual mental breakdown. I love these kinds of books! The kind where the psyche of the main character is dissected and explored to discover how they transformed from seemingly “normal” individuals to people who commit heinous crimes (The Woman Upstairs, The Scold’s Bridle, even We Need to Talk About Kevin, to name just a few).  And I found the first few chapters to be really gripping, leading me to believe that I was in for a great read.  Alas, I lost interest about a third of the way into this brief novel, for a number of reasons. I thought the characters were not very credible.  I felt that the novel lacked plot or storyline, and I found the timeline to be quite confusing. I thought the language was over-the-top, and the descriptions of events and things was excessive.  And I wondered how Myriam could possibly continue to leave her very young children in the care of Louise after she begins to suspect the nanny’s obsession with them, particularly after a very gruesome scene during which Louise addresses what she perceives as Myriam’s wastefulness.  But what do I know? I clearly have a totally different opinion of this book than the many professional reviewers out there, as well as the French literary judges! I wonder if this novel did not translate well from the original French into English, but I can’t believe that it could make this much of a difference. It just makes me wonder how I could have such a completely different view of this book than the reviewers, to the point where it makes me wonder if we've even read the same book!  Anyway, it’s an award-winner, and it’s short, so read it if you are interested. I’m so curious to hear what my other book club members say about this book.

That’s all for today.  Get outside and enjoy the day!

Bye for now…
Julie

Mothers and motherhood on a bright Sunday morning..

It’s a gorgeous spring morning, a bit cool but sunny and bright, with the birds singing and a slight breeze ruffling the leaves; in short, it’s a perfect day to celebrate Mother’s Day.  

I am just finishing Liane Moriarty’s book Truly, Madly, Guiltily, a book I’ve previously tried to read when I took out a library copy but never finished because it just wasn’t grabbing me.  This time I have my own copy, which I purchased at the big used book sale I went to in April, and I’m actually sticking with it to the very end (I’ll finish it today).  I only realized yesterday how appropriate it is for Mother’s Day, as it’s a book that explores mothers and motherhood, what it means to be a “good mother”, and whether women are destined to become like their own mothers as they reach a certain age.  It also looks at family and friendship, assumptions and misconceptions, and the ways in which our past affects who we have become. Here’s what I said about the book in a previous post from September 2016: “If you recall, I’ve loved the last few books by this author, The Husband’s Secret and Big Little Lies, and this novel started out much the same as the others… some event has occurred that has significantly affected the relationships of the characters in the book, but this event is kept from the reader, meted out in alternating chapters, a bit of a “before and after” strategy.  Three couples are featured prominently in this storyline: mousy accountant Erika and her equally "male-version mousy" husband Oliver are friends with successful cellist Clementine and her attractive husband Sam, and Oliver’s and Erika’s neighbours, larger-than-life Vid and his stunningly gorgeous wife Tiffany, become involved with the group after an impromptu invitation to a Sunday afternoon BBQ.  We the reader know something significant happened at the BBQ, but in customary fashion, Moriarty strings us along with clues and tidbits, while also letting us in on what is happening at the present time. I have loved this in previous books, and have marveled at how well she is able to keep everything straight, keeping us in suspense while revealing just enough information to keep us interested. But this book just was not doing anything for me, for a couple of reasons:  Erika in this book was too much like Jane in Big Little Lies, both in looks and in character. And I felt that the storyline was also too similar to both previous titles.” I still feel this way about the book, that it is a rehashing of previous storylines, and even though I know I didn’t finish this book when I last started it, I keep thinking that it is all so very familiar that surely I must have read it before. Still, as I suggested in my previous post, if you had never read any other novels by this bestselling Australian author, you may really enjoy this book, because it is clever and insightful, but not very original for her.  I think I can get through it this time because I haven’t read anything by her in quite a while so I’ve forgotten the details of the storylines from her earlier books. While this book is keeping me interested enough to finish it and find out exactly what happened, I would highly recommend The Husband’s Secret and Big Little Lies to any book club or for any reader who enjoys domestic fiction that manages to explore serious topics while still being darkly funny.  

That’s all for today.  Happy Mother’s Day!

Bye for now…
Julie

Tea and book club highlights on a twittery morning...

It’s definitely felt like spring these past few days, with warmer, sometimes tempestuous, weather.  This morning is fairly calm and sunny, and the birds are singing up a storm, but I think we’re expecting some more rain this afternoon. I’ve got a steaming cup of chai (it’s never too warm for tea!) and a slice of freshly baked Date Bread on the table in front of me as I write this post, a wonderful Sunday morning ritual.

My volunteer book club met yesterday to discuss Orphan Train by Christina Baker Kline.  This novel tells the parallel stories of Molly and Vivian, two women who seem to be polar opposites:  Molly is a rebellious seventeen-year-old who has been through a number of foster homes in the past nine years, and her current home is not much better than the others.  Vivian is a ninety-one-year-old widow who seems to have lived a rich and full life with her husband until his death, and now lives a quiet, if somewhat reclusive, existence.  After an incident at the public library, Molly is forced to put in fifty hours of community service, and Vivian’s housekeeper suggests that she spend that time cleaning out Vivian’s attic. Cleaning out a rich lady’s attic is not exactly an exciting prospect, but she reluctantly agrees. What she finds, however, is anything but boring. Instead she discovers that, as an Irish immigrant, Vivian was part of the thousands of orphan children who, between the 1850s and the 1920s, were gathered up and sent on trains to various towns and cities in the hopes that they would be placed in loving homes, but the reality for many was anything but loving; they were often placed in abusive environments and made to work on farms or in households and were considered little more than cheap labour.  Through their time together, Molly and Vivian discover that they are, in fact, very much alike, and they form a bond that may be stronger than any family connection. I knew nothing about this book, but thankfully it was a success - everyone seemed to love it! None of us knew anything about this train, and we thought of other instances in history where children were taken from homes and relocated. One member mentioned residential schools, and another mentioned Dr Barnardo’s Home Children. We talked about the idea of “family”, and how it applied to the various characters in the novel.  We talked about the plot twist near the end of the book, and what it meant to the character who made the decision. One member said that the novel was an emotional roller coaster: something positive happened, followed by something negative, then positive, then negative, and so on, and so on… Another member said she would have been happy if the story went on for another hundred pages, she enjoyed the book so much. I mentioned that I wished there was more of Molly’s story, but the others suggested that it was Vivian’s story, not Molly’s. One member pointed out that Vivian’s chapters are written in the first person, while Molly’s are in the third person, which supports this idea, and was something I hadn’t noticed.  All in all, it was an awesome discussion, and I would recommend this novel if you are looking for a good book club selection.

Time to get outside before the rain!  

Bye for now…
Julie